There are things you plan for in a year, and things you don’t. I never planned to go to North Carolina for a day in 2023, but when I went to visit Sausage in Virginia last January, we decided to do a spontaneous road trip.
It was going to be a five-hour drive, so we equipped ourselves with a nostalgic 2000’s playlist and a shed tonne of gummy worms. After a couple of hours, we stopped off at Colonial Williamsburg, ‘the world’s largest living history museum.’
It was quite a bizarre place. They have kept the town like it was in the 18th century with old shop fronts, wagons, stocks… there are even actors in period costumes who mince about as if they are living there.
I’m sure in the Summer Colonial Williamsburg is buzzing with excited children and curious tourists…but in mid-January the place is dead, leaving a quiet, ‘too quiet’ atmosphere. Sausage and I roamed the empty streets, with only the noise of horses’ hooves and The Grand Union flag blowing in the wind.
“This place is giving me bad energy,” Sausage said eying up a woman wearing a bonnet in a rocking chair. It was when we saw a creepy family being pulled around on a horse and cart that we decided to get the hell out of there.
It was another three hours, but we made it to North Carolina. The sun was setting which was creating a magnificent orange backdrop behind the gun shops and churches. By the time we got to the Air BnB, it was pitch black, so we waited for the morning to begin exploring the Tarheel state.
…. There isn’t much on the coast of North Carolina in January. We went into a diner on a pier and were met with suspicious glares from the locals, and then tried to walk on the beach but it was kind of cold, kind of blowy.
With that done and still an afternoon to kill, we drove to one of the top tourist attractions in the area…. a lighthouse.
It was called Bodie Island Lighthouse and was painted like a zebra crossing. You can climb 214 steps to the top, but Sausage and I just took some photos of it before getting back into the car.
“What now?” I asked.
Sausage went on her phone to research.
“There’s another lighthouse about 40 minutes away…” she replied.
“Yeah, alright.”
So off we went, singing to Outkast as we flew down the long sandy roads.
“CAROLINEEEEEE (Caroline), see, Caroline
All the guys would say she’s mighty fiiiiine (mighty fiine)”
“I know you’d like to think your shit don’t stank, but
Lean a little bit closer, see
Roses really smell like POO-OO-OOH
Yeah, roses really smell like POO-OO-OOH”
Sausage suddenly stopped singing.
“Oh shoot. Oh shoot. Oh shoot….” she repeated whilst staring up at the rear-view mirror.
I turned to see blue flashing lights following us. A cop. A real-life cop chasing us, just like in the movies. Sausage pulled up and the cop car parked up behind us. I tried to get my phone out to take a picture…
Sausage shook her head aggressively. “Mary, don’t!”
So, you’re just going to have to make do with this photo from No Country for Old Men as a representation.
Sausage opened her window with a shaky hand. I made a point to lean forward and smile at the cop in his wide-brim hat.
“Mam, do you know why I stopped you today?” he asked.
“Speeding…” Sausage said, in the same tragic voice she used to use on teachers when she forgot her homework.
The cop nodded. “Yup, you were doing 60 in a 45. I’m going to need to see your licence.”
At that point, I had expected Susie to just hand over her licence, she was clearly terrified, and this would have been the best thing to do, but instead, she tried her luck and attempted to beg her way out of the situation.
“Pleaseeeeee…” she whined as she gave her licence over.
The cop didn’t buckle under the pressure. He was kind about it, but still gave my puppy-eyed friend the fine. After all the paperwork was done, he offered to help us with directions to the lighthouse.
“Over yonder down the road, you’ll find ol’ Cape Hatteras. If you want the sunset, you better get going, but don’t let me catch you speeding again. Stay safe Mam….”
And Sausage got the hell out of there (slowly).
“He was nice,” I said as we pulled away.
Sausage whined. “Why did he have to pick on me?”
“Because you were speeding….”
“I always get speeding tickets.”
“Because you speed….”
We arrived at Cape Hatteras, but Sausage wasn’t in the mood to take any more selfies with lighthouses. Instead, we inspected lighthouse number two from the windscreen. It was like Bodie… black and white… just a slightly varied pattern.
And that was that for North Carolina. A ten-hour round trip where we stepped back to the 18th century, got a speeding ticket, and collated too many photos of lighthouses.
Still, strangely, one of the best memories of 2023.
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